


Reality

by elysium_is_real



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Comfort, Emotion Damage, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Heaven, Hell, Hurt, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, SPN - Freeform, Slow Build, Supernatural - Freeform, Torture, Winchester's, prompts, snuggle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7954924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysium_is_real/pseuds/elysium_is_real
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's every girl's dream to meet the people she idolizes, right? Guess you're just the first fan of Supernatural to meet the Winchester's (of course, minus Becky Rosen). At first, life is grand and you even have a profound bond with your angel!  But nothing is right, nothing is true, and some dreams are best left forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blanket, check. Remote, check. Snacks enough to last a lifetime, check. It was time for a full day, multi-season marathon of your favorite TV show—Supernatural.

You snuggled down into the couch, wrapping yourself further into the blanket. You pushed play as you grabbed the bowl of popcorn. Your cat hopped onto the couch and laid down at your feet. Barely five episodes in, a frantic knocking at the door interrupted. You groaned and got up to answer the door. The people at the door made your mouth fall open.

Two men stood at the door. Both of them were taller than you by easily three-quarters of a foot and dressed in formal attire. One had shaggy brown hair brushing his shoulders and the other one had spiky dark blond hair. Both were extremely attractive and both looked exactly like Sam and Dean Winchester.

"Hi. Are you Miss (Y/L/N)?" asked the taller of the two. Your mouth hung open and you slammed the door in their faces. "Oh, God, Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles are at my front door," you said to yourself. "Miss, open up. We're the FBI, we have some questions about your recently deceased neighbor," they yelled from the other side of the door. You quickly tried to fix your hair before cracking the door open. "If we could just come in for a minute, that would be awesome," said the Jensen look-alike. You stepped outside with them.

You gazed past both of them down your driveway to see a '67 Chevy Impala parked at the bottom of the hill. "This is not happening," you whispered. "Are you alright, Miss (Y/L/N)?" asked "Jared". You made a small sound and looked up at them. "I need to see some ID," you said with as much courage as you could muster. They pulled out badges and handed them to you. You scanned them closely before finding what you were searching for. You handed them back quickly. "It's against the law to make fake badges, boys," you said. They glanced nervously at one another as they opened their mouths to explain, but you cut them off again. "I don't know who paid you to come here and surprise me, but I can't tell you how amazing it is to meet you both in real life. You really saved me, really. Jared, with your 'Love Yourself' campaign. And Jensen, with the 'You Are Never Alone' campaign that you set up with Misha. I can't thank you enough," you said, throwing your arms around them both. They froze.

"I'm... I'm sorry, who?" said "Jensen". "Would you rather me call you Sam and Dean? Perhaps the Winchester's?" you said sarcastically. "If you could excuse us for a minute?" said "Jared".

In a few minutes, they came back. "Okay, do you read the books or something? Is Chuck printing again? And how do you know about that Jared, Jensen, Misha thing?" said the eldest Winchester. "Are you guys messing with me?" you asked quizzically. They both shook their heads. "We're the Winchester'. And we'd really like to know how you know about us if you're not in this line of work. Do you have a place we could go, or should we go grab a bite? Maybe we should take you back to our motel for now. Just to be safe," said "Jared". You gave them a wait signal and ran inside to grab you bag.

Five minutes later, you were in the back seat of the Impala with the boys on the way back to their motel. "Oh, wow," you mumbled as "Jensen" revved the engine. It roared like a lion before dulling to the gentle purr of a kitten. "You like cars? Baby's a--" "1967 Chevy Impala. This is the car I've always wanted since I first saw one about ten years back," you interrupted. "Jared" nodded approvingly. "Showed you up," he joked. "How much do you know?" he asked you. "Everything from Mary and John to Azazel to Dean going to Hell, Castiel pulling him out, Sam with Ruby and killing Lilith and letting Lucifer out, when they battled the Horsemen, Sam putting himself in the Cage with Lucifer to save the world, him getting out without his soul, Dean dealing with Death to get a wall put up, that wall breaking, making Sam have hallucinations and ending him in a mental institution. I know about Dick Roman and the Leviathans, Cas becoming God, but in the end helping Dean kill him. But they both get sent to Purgatory because of it. And how Dean could have left at any time, but he spent a whole year looking for Castiel with Benny, the good vampire. Metatron tricking Cas and casting the angels out of heaven. How then they went on to have to fight Crowley on completing the trials to close the Gates of Hell forever, then Abbadon and the whole drama with Dean and the Mark of Cain. Then Metatron kills Dean, but he comes back as demon. Sam cures Dean, and looks for a way to get the Mark off, which in turn releases Amara slash the Darkness. That's up to where I am 'cause it's only up to season ten. They haven't got season eleven on Netflix yet. Heard it's good, though," you finished with a smirk. They both sucked in their breath.

"My LSAT score?" asked "Jared". "174," you answered. "Our half-brother's name?" "Adam." "What's our most said phrase for both of us?" "Either 'awesome' or 'son of a bitch' for you and 'get this' for him." The rest of the ride, they prodded you with questions.

"Jared" opened the door for you upon arrival. "Our room number is forty-three. Here's the key; we'll be there in just a minute," he said, handing you a key. You went to the room, kind of surprised when it opened to reveal a room set up just like one would be on the show. Guns were littered everywhere, lore books were stacked on the table, and the beds were mused like someone had restlessly slept in them. You sat on the bed and took in the dream that was happening to you.

A few minutes later, they came in and sat on the bed next to you. "Okay, look, lady, we don't know how you know all this stuff or why you seem to think this is a joke, but we're the Winchester's. I'm Dean, and this is Sam," said "Dean." You laughed. "You're joking, right? Next thing I know, Castiel's gonna randomly how up beside me, right?" you joked. A small noise and a man with black hair and piercing blue eyes was sitting next to you. You screamed and fell off the bed.

"You called, Dean?" said the man. "Yeah. Can you do a little... thing to show her you're an angel?" Dean asked. "Of course. Pass me your knife," he requested. A knife was passed and he took your arm in his hand. He gestured to your arm, asking for permission for what he was about to do. You nodded blindly. He swiped the knife quickly across you forearm and you hissed, broken from your trance. Blood trickled down your arm from the deep slice he'd just cut on you. He placed two fingers on your forehead and you felt warmth trickle over your whole body. You looked down. The cut was gone, replaced by unmarred skin.

You jumped up and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. The angel came to the door, knocking softly. "I'm sorry if I frightened you," he said. You tore off your shorts, glancing down to see your now unbroken skin. No scars, not even the deepest one that almost sent you to the hospital. You lifted up your shirt. No cigarette burn marks from your mother. Nothing was even there to point to anything you or anyone else had ever done to your body. You sunk on the floor and began to cry. No more hiding your legs and stomach, no more lying. You could wear a bathing suit now, you could show off skin without the fear of being called an attention slut.

You quickly did up your pants and flung open the door. Castiel stumbled back as you threw yourself into his arms. "Thank you, thank you so much," you sobbed into his chest. His arms tentatively wound themselves around your waist as he stiffly hugged back. "You're welcome, I believe? Why are you hugging me?" he asked, confused. "Because," you told him, "all my scars are gone now. I don't have to lie or be scared of someone finding out anymore. Thank you," you said. You let go of him, wiping your tears away.

You sat on the bed next in front of the boys and took a deep breath. "So it's all real? All that crap about the monsters and demons and angels?" you asked the boys. They nodded. "And all the stuff that happened to you? You really had to go through that?" you whispered in horror. They nodded again. You stared at your feet, listening to the ringing silence. "Well, I guess that means we don't have to teach her nearly as much, right?" said Dean as he clapped his hands together and moved for the car keys. "Sam, you comin' with? I'm goin' to the library to look up some stuff, then out for some food. AKA pie. Love me some pie," Dean said. He gave a sound of approval and went for his jacket. "Cas, stay here with her. Tell her stories about stuff she might not know, that kinda stuff. Make sure she doesn't get killed," yelled Dean as he slammed the door behind him. A moment later, the roar of the Impala signaled they were gone. You stared in silence at Castiel. He was standing awkwardly in front of the bathroom door, swaying side to side. "So whatcha wanna do, Castiel?" you asked as you stood up.

"Whatever you would like, (Y/n)."


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, you were sitting on the bed beside the angel watching reruns of Dr. Sexy, M.D.. "So your brother actually put them in this show? Like, that was real?" you laughed. "Yes, Gabriel is a bit of a jokester. I have not seen him in quite a while, but I know he is safe," he replied. At this, your jaw dropped. "Gabriel is ALIVE?!?!?" you screeched. Castiel jumped slightly at the noise but nodded. "I believe so. I've seen him around and he still answers to me when I call him, which I rarely do," he said simply. You got off the bed and jumped around. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" you sang happily. Castiel chuckled at the sight and you landed face-down on the bed at his feet. "I knew it," you mumbled once more. Cas leaned down and made you look into his eyes. "Would you like for me to call him? You seem to be pleased with his... aliveness," he asked. You nodded vigorously and grinned. He closed his eyes before a small sound behind you made you turn around. It was him.

"What's up, little bro?" he said. "Oh, my God," you whispered. He noticed you and came and sat by you. "And who is this gorgeous young thing, if I may ask? Is she free?" he asked Castiel as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "She is not an object to be bought, Gabriel," said Cas sternly. Gabriel raised your hands to his lips and kissed it lightly. You murmured, "Oh, my God," again before passing out.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N), please wake up," asked a gruff voice. You opened your eyes to see Castiel hovering over you, peering down with his painfully blue eyes. "I'm okay, Cas, just a little..." You trailed off. Gabriel was still sitting on the couch, now watching TV. "Star-struck," you breathed. "I was afraid he had hurt you in some way, so I made him go in the corner," Cas explained sheepishly. You looked back at Castiel and gave him a soft look. You kissed him quickly on the cheek, tossing him a thank you over your shoulder before going over to sit by Gabriel.

"Um, hi," you said. "Hi," he replied, sitting back in the chair to examine you. "Are you okay? You seemed a little... scared? Nervous? Star-struck, maybe?" he offered with a smirk. "Hey, cram it! It just so happens you are a friggin' archangel and look exactly like my favorite actor of all-time, on whom I've had a crush on since I was six! So kill me off over it and don't be such a stuck-up asshole!" you snapped at him. He seemed taken back by your mini-lecture. A few moments later, he broke out in laughter. He doubled over and was gasping for air, laughing harder than you thought possible. It made you laugh a little and then you were laughing as hard as he was. The door opened and the boys came in. You and Gabriel were on the floor crying with laughter and you tried to calm down. But every time you looked at Gabriel, you both started laughing all over again. Sam and Dean started laughing and it took almost ten minutes for you all to calm down. Only Cas stayed stone faced. You flopped on the bed beside Cas as the brothers sat down at the table. You breathed deeply. "What the hell was that all about?" said Dean once everyone calmed down enough. Gabriel spoke up, "(Y/N) yelled at me about me calling her star-struck because she fainted. The funny part was apparently my vessel has a twin who is movie famous, and not for porn!" You were about to speak up when your stomach growled. "You are hungry," said Cas. "Yeah, a bit," you admitted. Castiel rose to his feet and stood you up. "Let's go get some food for you, then. Perhaps I will find something to my liking other than a PB and J, as Sam calls them." You gave him a surprised look, but smiled. "Let me grab my bag, 'kay?" you told him as you turned around to get it. You heard the four boys whispering frantically behind your back and grinned. This was a set-up between you and Cas, you knew it. You turned to see Dean handing Cas his credit card and nudging him. You walked over to the door and he opened it for you. You thanked him and walked out into the brisk air.

"What do you have planned, Cassiel?" you asked, trying out the nickname. "I would like to take you somewhere nice, if you'd like that.," he replied coolly. You blushed and asked if you could stop by your house first. A few moments later, he had transported you to your house. "Be right back," you assured him, but he was occupied with your cat. You quickly changed into a simplistic white dress with grey knee boots and a black trenchcoat.

You found him sitting on your couch with the cat on his lap. When you came out, he stood straight up and looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He had taken off his trenchcoat to show the simple suit he wore under it and it suited him well. "I have seen the beginning of the universe beside my Father, but not even that could compare to your beauty right now, (Y/N)," he breathed. You blushed deeply at this. "Thank you. You look nice, too," you said. He held out his arm out for you to take, which you did. You and him walked to the restaurant in comfortable silence.

"Two, please," Cas told the hostess. You noticed with surprise that as he spoke to her, his voice rose to a softer, more normal voice. It was much more Misha like. "Right this way, please," she said, leading you two to a small table for two. Castiel pulled out a chair for you before sitting across from you. "Cas, this place is gorgeous," you commented, gazing around. It really was. It reminded you immensely of the place Hazel and Augustus went to in Amsterdam in The Fault in Our Stars. "Yes, I thought you might like it. And Dean recommended it for our first date, as he calls it," he said. You turned your full attention to him. "Dean set us up?" you asked. "When you were unconscious, I called Dean and asked him what he would do if he thought there was a beautiful woman that he might have a chance with. I know it hasn't been long, but in my experience, I must move fast before she slips away. Is this alright?" he replied quizzically. "Um, yeah. I... uh... I'm sorry, you think I'm beautiful? You like me? You like me?" you asked in awe. He lowered his head slightly, giving you an apologetic look. "If you do not reciprocate my feelings—" You cut him off with a hand. "You're Castiel. A literal angel of the Lord. Warrior of nigh biblical proportions. Smiter of all evil. Millions, if not billions, of years old, a vast expanse of celestial being, and you have feelings for me? And then you think I don't reciprocate said feelings. Honey, I may have harbored a crush on Gabriel, but I fell head over heels for you. The way you protect others first, try to be what your Father meant you to be, your caring and kind ways, how you are loyal to a fault and brilliant and capable of more than any other angel, I could go on for days. Castiel, I simply don't understand why me. And why so bold after knowing me only a few hours," you finished.

"Because," he said simply, "your soul is like nothing I've ever seen, not even Dean's is like it. I see the pain you carry around, how quickly your thoughts move, the others-come-first attitude, the pureness of just yourself. And Father help me, I want to be the one to taint you. Just me." Your lips parted at his words and the sound of his voice. "You don't know what that thought does to me, (Y/N)," he said, voice dropping lower. Right as you moved to lean over the table to kiss him, your waiter walked over. "Hi, are you two ready to order? And can I interest either of you in a bottle of wine?" he said. "Your best bottle, please. And we'll have the chef's choice," said Castiel. There was not even a hint of the darkness in his voice like there was when he was speaking to you as he spoke to the young man. He flashed him a small smile as he handed him the menus. "Now. I want to know everything about you, (Y/N)," he said with a smirk.

Dinner went smoother than any date you'd ever had. Cas paid for the meal and you began the mile or so walk you had back to your house. It was a warm night and a small breeze made it absolutely perfect. "I had a wonderful time, (Y/N). It was a rather pleasurable experience," he said. "Yes," you agreed. "It has been." You moved your hand down into his and laced your fingers together. He pulled you to walk a bit closer to him. He told you stories of his favorite moments of the human race and you'd tell him your best memories. His were more interesting, but he loved your stories even more. In no time, you were home. You pulled your hand away from his as you looked up at him. You looked down bashfully as he gazed at you in amazement. His shoes entered you line of vision and you looked up. He was less than a foot away. "I believe it is customary for me to give you a kiss good nigh. May I?" he asked. You nodded and he leaned down, putting his lips on yours.

You fell into the kiss, letting your arms wrap themselves around his neck. His hand moved to the nape of your neck and the other one, the small of your back. Carding your fingers through his dark hair, he deepened the kiss ever so slightly. His lips were soft and all you could smell was the unique blend of smoke and soap that was Castiel. He nipped gently at your bottom lip, making you moan quietly. You pulled away slowly, breathing deeply for air. You rested your head against his chest and sighed. "You don't even know how long I've wanted to do that, Castiel," you whispered. He kissed the top of your head and you looked up at him. "What are you doing tomorrow?" you asked. He pondered the question for a moment before shrugging. "Stay the night with me, then," you suggested. "Okay," he said. You unlocked the door and went in.

He busied himself with the cat again as you put your stuff down. "I'm going to go get changed. There should be some clothes that fit you in that box ever there. They were my ex-boyfriend's, Jared. He was about your size. Just come in when you're done," you told him, pointing to a box in the corner. "He was a fool for leaving you," you heard him mutter as you walked down the hallway to your room. You changed into a tank top and shorts and laid down just as Cas came in with a pair of boxers on and nothing else. "This is what Dean sleeps in. I hope it's appropriate," he explained as he crawled in next to you. You didn't respond, caring more to take this chance to take in his chiseled chest. A scar or two ran down his chest, but other than that, it was unmarred and exactly what you had imagined. He looped and arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. You rested your head comfortably on his shoulder and sighed. "We should go out more often, Cas," you whispered. "Say my full name. I like the way it sounds on your lips," he said. "Castiel," you mumbled into his chest. He groaned and buried his face into your hair. "I am not as innocent as everyone is lead to believe, (Y/N). I think you should know that." You whimpered quietly as a response and fell asleep in his arms.

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."


	3. Chapter 3

When you woke up, Castiel was gone. A red rose and a white tulip was lying crisscrossed on a note. (Y/n), the Winchester's are going to take you to their home, a bunker, they call it. It will be safe. Meet them at the hotel you first went to and I will be there. Pray to me if you require me in anyway. I enjoyed last night. Perhaps again? --Castiel You smiled at his dorkiness and got dressed. There was no question about where you wanted to go. Either boring life at the diner or saving the world with three of your heros. Yeah, no competition.

In a few hours, you had packed the few things you needed. One of your brother's old shirts, pictures, clothes, bath stuff, excetra. You jotted down a quick note, pretending it was suicide of the bridge. That way, no one would come looking for you. You hated leaving them like this, but it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. "This is what people do, right? Leave a note? Goodbye, John," you finished off, hoping the humor would leave an imprint in their mind. Smiling lightly, you tucked it under the blanket you were leaving behind, got in your car, and left for the motel.

True to his word, the Winchester's were there packing up the Impala like you'd seen the do a thousand times before. You kissed the top of the car goodbye, got out and began your way to them. "Sam! Dean!" you called. They both turned and flashed you a smile. You nearly swooned, but you caught yourself first. You threw your bag in next to their cooler, then poked them both in the chest. "What was that for?" asked Sam. "Just making sure this wasn't the greatest-slash-scariest dream ever. Would've been sad if my hand had just gone through you both. Or worse, just one of you," you said, shuddering at the thought. Dean chuckled and you heard a flap of wings. Turning around, you almost threw up. "No way."

He was taller than you would've thought. But his hair was just as blond, his eyes just as blue, his aura just as menacing. "Holy mother of God," you muttered. "Nope, try favorite son," he responded. Lucifer. Neither of the Winchester's had looked up yet. "Sammy?" you squeaked. He looked up and flinched at the sight. You heard Dean cock his gun and order you to do something, but you were in a trance. "So... Cas, huh? I must say, you're so out of his league. But I'm not here just to pop in and say hello, Dad wants me to tell you that you have a chance at beating Amara. Can I borrow you? I can promise I'll be nice, just not that I'll be gentle," he said with a saucy wink. Sam grabbed you by the arm and pulled you behind him, keeping you there with one arm. You peered out from behind him. "Amara... She's the Darkness? Are you kidding me? And it's a 'she'? It's and 'it'?" you questioned. You shot Dean a glare, knowing what he had been through with the connection from Tumblr, but that's all. "Come on, boys, let's share!" Lucifer whined. "Over my dead body are you going to lay one finger on (Y/n). She's mi--ours now. Leave," demanded Sam. His hand was open and so close. You grabbed it tightly, frowning slightly when he tensed and smiling when he squeezed back. You knew what Lucifer was capable of, you just didn't want to find out on a personal level.

"You know, that can be arranged," smirked Lucifer, prepping his fingers to snap. "No, stop!" you screamed. You moved around Sam, still holding tightly, and looked him dead in the eye. "You're still an angel, fallen, but still an angel. I know your story, I feel sorry for you, I wish God hadn't treated you so harshly for being loyal. Under all that, you're still an angel. So I wonder what happens when I do this," you said as you lifted your shirt and slapped your hand on the banishing sigil you'd carved on top of the matching scar. He held up his hands, then vanished. Another flap of wings and you spun around to meet Castiel's bright blue eyes that glowed with his grace. You let go of Sam's hand and hugged him. "Why didn't you call me?" he asked when you pulled away. "Because I knew it would work. He's back in The Cage, at least for now. Heaven is locked for him, but he has to go somewhere. I worked it out years ago when I first started watching the show," you explained. He lifted your shirt with one hand and went to touch the bleeding cut, but you stopped him. "No, don't. I always mess up the corner 'z'. I'll be okay, Cassiel," you assured him. "Okay, so Satan wants you and now you and Cas are actual together?" asked Dean from nowhere. You smiled and nodded. "I think so?"

You slid into the Impala and frowned when Cas told you he had business to attend to in Heaven, so he would meet you at the Bunker. You knew he'd keep his deal, but you wanted someone to lean on and sleep. The sigil made you so tired, like you hadn't slept in months. You yawned and agreed, closing your eyes. Moments before you drifted to sleep, you heard the boys playing Rock Paper Scissors. "Dean for the scissors," you mumbled. Dean laughed and made a weak cry of victory, telling you he'd won at last. A door opened, shut, and another one opened, then shut. There was a dip in the seat, so you opened one eye to see Sam sitting in the back next to you. "Cas said you wanted someone to sleep on. I lost," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He opened one arm slowly and you looked at him before scooting over and resting your head on his broad shoulder. He moved your head to take off his giant flannel, which he draped across your legs before putting his arm back behind you. "If this is awkward for you, you can move," he whispered into your ear. "No, I'm just tired and thankful for the offer. You're a good pillow," you complimented. You closed your eyes again and barely heard Dean start the car before you fell asleep for good this time.

Sam made such a good pillow, you slept even better than the night before with Cas.


	4. Chapter 4

When you woke up, it was because the steady rumble of the engine had stopped. "Wake up, sleeping beauty, we're here," said Dean from the front seat, looking back on you in the rear view mirror. You groaned and turned inwards, flipping back over quickly when you were met face first with a Winchester crotch. Both Sam and Dean laughed a full laugh as you sat up and covered the intense blush crawling across your face. "Shut up," you mumbled, grabbing your bag and opened the door. You shut the door behind you and your jaw dropped. "It's real," you sighed, mouth dropping open and eyes wide in awe. "Yeah, it's better on the inside. We call it The Batcave," said Dean, swooping an arm around your shoulder. "No, we don't," remarked Sam from the trunk. "How much do you know?" he asked, letting go of you to walk towards the door. "Built in 1935, it was originally created for the secret society called 'The Men Of Letters'. It took three years to build and is powered by both the nuclear power plant and the river on the other side of this old factory, which is obviously a disguise. It is the supernatural motherlode, containing every bit of knowledge on every single thing that crawls in the night. If knowledge is power, then this is the most powerful place on Earth. But it's not the only one. There's hundreds of them scattered across the world, just none of them used since the Men of Letters disbandment in 1958 by Abaddon," you rattled off.

"Well, someone knows her stuff," said Dean. He was obviously impressed, and so was Sam, judging by his slack jawed face. "And you just remember everything like that? That was a college level lecture. You know the dates and everything," said Sam in disbelief. You blushed and said, "Yeah, well, I've seen all the episodes thrice over." Dean scoffed and opened the door with the key. You rushed forwards with your bag slung over your shoulder and peered around his shoulder to see. It was pitch black and you couldn't see. "Hey, Dean, you mind helping me?" asked Sam. Dean was already inside, so you turned back and went to the car. "Great, grab-- Oh, (Y/n)," he said. "Dean coming? I need him to carry in a heavy box," he continued. "How about I can take these and you take the box? Dean's already way out of ear's reach and I don't mind helping," you compromised. He agreed and handed you three bags for each arm. They were heavy, but books could have weighed more. You stumbled in and went down the stairs, ignoring the Bunker's beauty until you set down the bags. Once you set (or rather, slammed) down the bags, you sighed and turned. It took your breath. "Holy God." 

It was just like in the show, only brighter and better. Books were piled high and papers were scattered across the tables. At the end of the tables was a hallway you knew turned off into another hallway for the bedroom and, eventually, the kitchen. The war room was bigger now that you were in it and no lights were flashing on the lit table map of the world. You meandered over to the table, letting your fingers dance on the smooth wood until it ensnared a paper with handwriting you knew to be Sam's. The a's were written the same way and you felt a towering presence behind you. The chuckle let you know it was Sam. "You cross your capital a like it's an unfinished star. I've always wondered since that episode, was that how John taught you? So you'd remember how to draw a Devil's Trap?" you asked, pointing to one of them as an example. "Yeah, he did. I was young, and I guess it stuck," he said, stepping a little closer so that his chest was touching your back. You felt the warmth radiating off of him and a smile twitched at your lips. 

"Are you really just staring at my notes on the daeva demons, (Y/n)?" he asked in a low voice. When you didn't reply, he tried to take the paper from you, but you slipped away, tilting your head slightly. "The daeva, it's a shadow demon, right?" you asked. "Yeah, so?" he said, obviously confused. "The sigil for them, it's called a, a, uh, a Zoroastrian sign, right? And it looks like this," you said, searching for a pencil. He handed you one off the table, wanting to see where you were going with this. You scribbled down what you knew to be the sign from the season one episode and laughed when you finished it. "Hey, Dean!" you yelled, a grin stuck on your face. "What?" he yelled back, popping his head out from behind the wall. "Look something up for me, will you? It's called the vashta nerada!" He came closer to you and leaned around his brother to see the sign. "What's the whatever you called it have to do with a daeva?" he asked. "Who turned out the lights?" you said with a shit-eating grin. The boys shot you a confused look, but you scampered away down to the Bunker's data base.

"Is she making any sense to you?" asked Dean. "No way, man," said Sam, even though he had a smile on his face. Dean looked his brother up and down before saying, "You like her, don't you?" "No way, Dean, I just met her. She's just... cool, is all. She's smart and funny and makes connections is all," he protested a little to quickly for Dean's liking. "Uh-huh, whatever you say, lover boy," smirked Dean. Sam rolled his eyes and went to look for you.

He found you knee deep in books, flipping your way through the back, muttering "Who turned out the lights?" over and over again. "What's this vfasnjkfsdanj you're talking about?" he asked, leaning up against the wall. "Okay, one, it's called vashta nerada, and two, it's got the same sign as a Daeva demon, they have the same likeness, same traits, same shadowy thing, and both lethal. The thing is they're from two different shows. If this is real, if you're real, then there could be Time Lords and Daleks and Cyberman and consulting criminals and a third Holmes brother and everything, but I know that it's just you guys because... because I just know," you finished in a huff, flipping another page to find what you needed. "I freaking KNEW IT!" you shouted in joy. You handed the book to Sam, coming around so that your shoulders were touching. Well, his elbow was touching your shoulder. "Here, look. 'The Vashta Nerada are ravenous hunters able to strip the meat from a body with a frightening speed and efficiency. They tend to avoid light, often concealed in patches of dark that resemble shadows, hence the general warning to 'Stay out of the shadows' if you suspect these creatures are close. They are carnivorous and can take over a host to eat their meat, coming from the forests of Vashta Nerada.' Take that, Sammy!" you said, flicking him with a finger. 

"It's Sam to you, (Y/n)."   
"Nah, I like Sammy."


	5. Chapter 5

Once you'd grabbed made some quick notes on the Vashta Nerada and shoved it into the book on Daevas, you went to finish exploring. There was the bedrooms which were bigger than they looked on the screen, and you pushed open the door with number 11. With a first look, you knew it to be Dean's room. "Dean?" you asked quietly. When there was no reply, you took the first step in and looked around. His 'Busty Asian Beauties' was lying in a pile alongside an empty beer bottle that had something colorful underneath it. You knew what these were and frowned as you drew closer. Moving the bottles, you smiled and went through the pictures. Ones with just Sam and Dean, or with Bobby, then young Dean and Mary, the pictures you knew and loved. "Can I help you?" asked a voice. You spun around and blushed when you saw Dean with a raised eyebrow. "Um, I just saw that, uh, you weren't so I, uh, wanted to see them for myself," you said sheepishly. "See what for yourself?" he asked. You lifted the pictures and he tilted his head. "Why?" You looked down at them again and smiled a little. "The Winchester's were my getaway, as horrible as that seems. They saved the world, they rescued us all, and more times than we can count. But they're human, just like us. I guess seeing them really proves that you're just normal, even if you aren't. Does that make any sense?" you said, handing them to him. 

He took them without even thinking, looking down at the one on the bottom. "When it was still me and my mom and Sammy and Dad, we were normal. She'd cut the crust off my sandwiches and sing me 'Hey Jude' at night and it was normal. So I guess it could make a little sense if I twisted my head a little," he stated, smiling fondly at the memory. You were captivated by his smile. He noticed your staring and smirked. "See something you like?" he asked snarkily. "Not even gonna deny it, hot stuff," you said. Your eyes widened at you confidence and he laughed a full laugh. The sound was bright and you had to try hard not to laugh with him. "Yeah, you're staying for a while. Can you cook?" he asked after the laughter had died down. "Yeah, my parents were big cooks, so I helped and learned a lot. Speaking of that, I'm kinda hungry. Do you want anything specific or should I ask Samster?" He smiled at your nickname for his little brother and suggested lasagna. You agreed and went off to the kitchen. 

When you looked through the pantry, there was nothing but old bread and condensed milk. "Castiel, can you spare a moment?" you asked aloud. You waited a moment then turned when you heard the flapping of wings. "Oh, good, I just need a... few things..." you trailed off when you saw it wasn't Castiel, but another angel. An angel with golden hair, whiskey eyes, and a sense of humor you'd fallen in love with the moment he graced the screen. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," you whispered in awe. "Cassie ain't available, to what may I be of service, my rather attractive lady?" Gabriel asked. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. So instead, you motioned him nearer with one finger. He did and you poked him in the chest, then the cheek. "You needed someone to poke? No offense, but you've got two morons who'd probably be willing," he said. With one last poke, you said, "You're alive? You're real? You're actually in this vessel? YOU'RE ALIVE?!?" He grinned at your reaction and nodded his head. "Alive as that day," he said.

You flung yourself at him and he actually fell backwards onto the floor. You laughed and grinned so big, it started to hurt your face. "Jeez, gorgeous, I never knew you loved me so much," he said with a chuckle. You sat up, straddling his legs, and reached down to touch his hair. It was as soft as you had imagined it. "You mind telling me what you're doing? I don't usually let people touch my hair, but you can be an exception if you want, sugar," he said with a grin. You shushed him and put a finger to his lips and let your fingers resume playing with his hair. Satisfied, you sat down next to him and watched him prop himself up on one arm. "Do you and Sam ever hang out? Do you think he's attractive? Was the whole Tuesday thing really for his betterment or did you just want some Sam to yourself?" you asked rapid fire. He seemed taken aback, but answered them honestly. "Yeah, Samster's a cutie, but he's got a thing for someone else. Didn't 'till yesterday, though. I was gonna ask him out, too," he admitted. You sighed and whispered, "OTP moment."

You sat on the kitchen floor talking to Gabriel until you heard someone's approaching footsteps and you remembered the dinner you were supposed to have ready. "Crapcrapcrap, Gabriel, you have enough angel juice to make a lasagna? Like, now?" you asked frantically. "There's always juice for you, cupcake," he said with a wink and a snap of his fingers. A perfect and steaming lasagna appeared on the stove just as Sam came around the corner. "Hey, Gabe, I didn't know you were here," he said, following his nose to the lasagna. "Wow, this looks great, (Y/n)," he complimented. You thanked him as Sam pulled down the plates from the top shelf. "We need to move those down or I'll be climbing the counters like I did when I was younger," you stated, getting up and leaving to get Dean.

You heard the music before you reached his door. A classic Dean song, Led Zeppelin's Ramble On. Pushing open the door, you were surprised to see him dancing around the room like a maniac. He obviously didn't hear you come in, because he just kept on as the chorus hit its climax. You danced over to him, matching the motions he was doing until you were right next to him. He finally noticed you and you could see the fighter come out. He swept his feet behind your ankles and you fell backwards. You would have hit your butt, but he caught you just in time. "Sorry, (Y/n), I didn't see you and you scared me," he said. He was blushing profusely. "Never took the great Winchester for a dancer. We need that on film," you teased. "Come on, dinner's ready," you kept on, wriggling away and back towards the kitchen.

"I will never live this down."


	6. Chapter 6

* (A/N) Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry this update is so ridiculous delayed! Usually, I'm better with this kind of stuff, so in return for being such wonderful people and reading this, I'll put up three more parts. Sound good? Please don't be angry. Oh, by the way, I might need some suggestions on the dream fic you've always wanted or just can't find. I do YouTubers, SPN (obviously.), Sherlock, Doctor Who, that jazz. Hit me up in the inbox or comments! <3, Elys.*

 

You were rinsing the last of the dishes when you began to lightly hum your favorite part of the Phantom of the Opera. Your humming turned to singing as you sung softly. Unknown to you, Sam was standing in the doorway. “Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who one inspired my voice? Do I become his prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a though, he murders all that’s good. I know I can’t refuse, and yet, I wish I could. Oh, God, if I agree, what horrors wait for me, in this, The Phantom’s opera?” you ended as you laid down the last plate. “I liked that song. You have a really good voice, too,” Sam complimented. You screamed and fell to the floor. He rushed to you. “I’m sorry, Jesus, quiet down! You’ll wake the dead!” he laughed. You slapped his arm and got up. 

“Were you watching me sing? You creep,” you said with a huff. He shook his head. “Nah, came to get a glass of water and wanted to listen. You know, see how you were. My mom used to sing to me and Dean when we were younger, or so he says.” “’Hey Jude’. I know. Your family, the way Mary and John, you and Dean, I just… I wish it could have turned out differently for you guys. You didn’t deserve this life. You guys deserve to be happy, too, you know. Y’all have earned it, don’t you think? I do. I wish I could make it better for you guys,” you said quietly. He took a step closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You were surprised at first, but then you twisted your arms around his neck. He sighed into your embrace and you smiled. You softly hummed “Hey Jude” and he began to relax in your arms. You were shocked at this sudden show of affection, but to be honest, you really liked it. You and Cas weren’t exclusive, so you started to sway in time with your humming. By the time the first chorus had been hummed, he was putty in your hands. “C’mon, Sammy. Let’s get you into bed, okay?” He followed you into his room and you said good night before slipping into your own room, which was conveniently next door.

You flopped on your own bed. You had just changed into a tank top and short shorts and the feel of the cool sheet under your bare skin was something you loved. A knock at the door, and you grunted in approval. The door creaked open and you expected it to be Cas. “Come sit on the bed with me, I really want someone to hold me. Please, Castiel?” you mumbled from the pillow. The bed weighed down and someone’s hand went to the small of your back. Their hands were cool, almost cold, and it felt amazing against your hot skin. “Your hands feel so good, Cas,” you sighed as they slid their way up your shirt. “Imagine what else feels good,” said a low voice. You sat upright and choked back a scream. It was Cas, but it wasn’t him. It was someone different. Same vessel, different angel. “Scream and everyone you've ever spoken to dies. The Winchester’s and dear old Cassie counts, (Y/N),” he whispered. Lucifer. You'd seen enough Casifer to know that glint in those blue eyes. 

“What do you want?” you spat at him. “I need you to come with me for a few days while I tap into that power you’ve got, sweetums. Then I’ll bring you back completely unharmed. That is, if you don’t fight. But humans can live through a lot, right?” he said with a smirk. “I will go with you if you let me write a one sentence note to them. I’ll let you read it even, okay?” you said, holding your hands up. He nodded and snapped his fingers, making a notepad and a pen appear in your hand. Remember what I was singing in the kitchen, Sammy? was all you wrote. “Okay, I’ll go,” you said as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

The Bunker was quiet. Too quiet. So when “Cas” went into your room to wake you up, his cry for the brothers awoke them at once. “Where is she, Sam?” he demanded once he got there. His eyes were glowing faintly as Sam took the note from his trembling hands. Dean read it over his shoulder. “What the hell is this, Sam?” Dean asked. “I-I-I don’t know. She was singing something from a musical, Phantom, I think. Let me go get my laptop. I only remember a few words,” he threw over his shoulder as he ran out of the room. Opening his laptop, he typed in what few words he could remember. “what answer can I give”, “murders all that’s good”, the whole play. Nothing fit. Until it clicked. “Cas! Dean! I figured it out!” he shouted as he furiously typed in “twisted every way, what answer can I give”. The came into his room, glancing at the screen. “I don’t understand,” said Cas with a scowl. 

“The lyrics, it’s a hidden message. ‘Kills without a thought, he murders all that’s good’? ‘I know I can’t refuse, and yet, I wish I could’? Someone’s taken her somewhere she doesn’t want to go, but she feels obliged to. Who do we know that wants her for something about the greater good?” he said. “Lucifer,” Dean and Cas said together. Sam hopped of the bed and ran to the garage. “Sam! Where are you going?” Dean asked as he ran to catch him. “I’m going to find her. Stay here in case she comes back or something, but I have to find her, Dean,” he explained. Realization dawned in Dean’s eyes. “You like her,” he said. Sam gave him a knowing look and turned for the garage.


	7. Chapter 7

You didn’t know where you were, but it was actually rather nicely decorated. Cas had told you to stay in that room for ten minutes, then to go into the room next to you for him to begin. You were scared out of your mind and wanted the boys to come save you from him. You pulled your legs up next to you and cried. A man with black hair and striking blue eyes came in, freezing when he saw you. Your shoulders were shaking with silent sobs and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for you. He hadn’t seen a human since he was last out of the Cage and he wanted to speak to you. Moving silently to you, he sat down on the couch beside you. At the dip in the couch, you grabbed the blade hidden in your boot and held it to the new man’s throat. “Please, I mean you no harm. I only wish to know who you are and why you’re here,” he said. You stuttered a moment before dropping the blade. “Matt Cohen, oh, my God,” you murmured. “Wait, snap out of it. This is… um, God, I’m so sorry, it’s just… Michael is your name, isn’t it? Either that or John,” you offered, mouth still hanging open. “Yes, I am Michael in John Winchester’s body. That Adam boy was so young and weak,” he replied coolly. “Are you good?” you asked hesitantly. “I am still an angel, so I would like to believe so,” he said. “Can I—I have to go—I’m scared and I could—Can I have a hug?” you finally asked after many attempts. He cocked his head. “A hug, it is a human thing, is it not?” he inquired. You nodded, but he opened his arms awkwardly anyways. You went to him and buried your head in his chest. His arms were still straight out, so you folded them around you. “Jesus Christ, I’m practically hugging Matt Cohen,” you mumbled. Your watch beeped and you reluctantly let him go. “I hope I see you again, Mat- I mean, Michael. Thanks for the hug,” you said nervously. Walking over to the door, you paused inches from the handle. You took a deep breath and ran in before you could change your mind.  
It was just another room. Castiel was in a chair by a window. “Sit on the bed,” he instructed. You did as told, almost in tears again when he walked over to you. He pressed you gently back until you were lying down and he cupped your face in his hands. “Close your eyes and hold onto my hand, I don’t want this to hurt you, but it might just a bit,” he explained. You gingerly took his hand and he pushed his hand into your stomach. To say it hurt a lot was an understatement. It burnt like every molecule in your body was being ripped apart, put back together, then made to catch fire all at once. You screamed in agony and squeezed his hand tightly. He pushed his hand in deeper and it hit something inside you, making the pain disappear. He pulled it out quickly and whatever it was was glowing brightly. “Do you agree to letting me have this grace that has been in your body since birth, thus making you a human henceforth?” he asked loudly. “I do,” you said, shocked at his word. He quickly said some words in a different language and it turned an even more brilliant blue. He dropped it in a clear mason jar and screwed on the light. His thank you was the last thing you heard before you passed out.  
“Then he grabbed me and pulled me into the Cage with him. I’ve been here with Lucifer ever since. It’s been lonely with only my egotistical brother to talk with. I do wish you would stay, but I don’t want to confine you here with us or to restrain you from doing good in the world. Maybe when you wake up, we could be friends. Even if you are so much my lesser, I would like to make your acquaintance.” You opened your eyes to see Michael sitting on the foot of your bed, mindlessly talking to no one in particular. “Michael?” you asked. He turned to see you. “You’re alive,” he stated. “Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked. “What he did was dangerous and reckless, and only one other person has ever lived through it. So I am surprised you are awake so soon. It’s only been three weeks,” he replied. You sat upright and immediately wished you hadn’t. You leaned over the side of the bed and vomited all over the floor. Michael snapped his fingers and it was clean. “Thanks, Mikey,” you said, leaning against the headboard. “I like that nickname. Nicknames are so human, aren’t they? I rather enjoy them,” he rambled. “Three weeks, you said?” you said with a sigh. He nodded and you put your hand over his. “Michael, I need to get to the Bunker. Can you get me there?” you asked. He smiled at you and nodded. “He told me to send you home once you awoke. But I don’t think you’re ready for the trip,” he said slowly. “Don’t care. I need to go home, Michael. I’m gonna get you out of here, then you can come live with us at the Bunker, ‘kay?” you promised. He smiled and touched your shoulder.  
On impact, you threw up again. You were home in your bedroom. “Boys!” you screamed once you could speak. You heard a ruckus from next door, and the stampeding of three pairs of feet. Sam was the first one in, him being the closest. “Who are you and where’s (Y/N)?” he demanded. You held your hands up and backed away. “Sam, it’s me! Here, toss me you’re holy water and silver blade. I know you’ve got ‘em on you, okay?” you said slowly. He threw holy water on you as Dean and Cas burst through the door, almost breaking it off its hinges. “Dean, silver knife.” Sam said, holding out his hand. He handed it to him and Sam stalked towards you. You held out you forearms and he slid the blade across your forearm. “It’s really me,” you said. “Tell me something only I would know,” he ordered. “That last night you saw me, I caught you watching me singing a song, and then talked with you a bit before you hugged me and I helped you to bed. That good enough?” you asked. The knife clattered to the floor as he swept you up into his huge arms. Dean and Cas came rushing over. Sam let you go, and you turned to find yourself in Dean’s warm embrace. “Jesus, don’t ever leave like that again. You scared the crap outta us, kiddo,” he said in your ear. He let go and this time, you ran to the bed. Cas looked hurt, but something was off. You couldn’t quite place why you didn’t trust him, but something in you said he had done something to hurt you or take you away from the boys. Regardless, they all left after a moment.  
Something wasn't right and you felt it deep inside.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean’s phone rang and he answered. “Winchester speaking. Chuck?” he said with surprise. “Oh, my God, it’s God!” you whisper yelled. All three boys stared at you in surprise. “Yeah, yeah, she’s right here and she just told us something. Wanna share with the class?” he said, crossing his arms. You sighed dreamily when he did that. “The arm porn struggle is real,” you thought. “And when were you gonna-- she’s your what?” he yelled. “Dean, please lower your voice. All the yelling is beginning to hurt my ears,” said Cas. “Okay, we’re sending Cas to pick you up and bring you back here, cool? See you then,” he finished, ending the call. “Cas, do you mind?” Cas shook his head and was gone. “So… Chuck is God and your dad. Wowza,” Sam said playfully. “Chuck is my say what?” you said with a horribly fake smile. Cas fluttered in with Chuck in tow and you turned to him. You stalked over to him and struck him hard across the face. “How long have you known, why didn’t you contact me, how did I never know, is my mother even my real mom, and WHAT THE HELL, CHUCK!” you spat, striking him across the face again. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I didn’t know myself until just now! I don’t know the answer to any of those questions, but now I do know that Amara will be gone forever by the end of today. Lucifer got what he needed and he’ll be gone once he activates it. I didn’t tell him that much,” he said quickly, his hands up in defense. You stormed out to the library, leaving all four boys in the room with shock on their faces. “Remind me not to piss her off,” Dean said to no one in particular once you were gone.  
You sat down at one of the many tables in the library and opened a book you’d found on raising people from Hell. It was one the boys hadn’t touched and the pages were yellowed with age. You’d only read a few pages when you felt someone reading over your shoulder. It was Sam. “What are you looking for? I haven’t seen this book,” he said softly. “I’m keeping my promise. I have to get someone out of the cage,” you told him simply. “W-Wait, what?” he spluttered. “Michael. He’s sweet, stayed with me when I was unconscious, took care of me when I was awake, then got me back here. I made a promise that I’d get him out and then to let him stay here a while. He’s a good guy, Sam, even if you don’t think so. I saw him when you were dead or having Lucifer in you. He brought you back from the dead, didn’t he?” you stated, going back to the book. He stared at you for a while before sighing and saying, “Hell and the Cage are two different things. Ask Cas or Chuck, they’ll have a better idea on it. And where did that explosion with Chuck come from?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Wouldn’t you be mad if you’d just discovered your whole life was a lie? Who you loved wasn’t who you thought they were? All my life, I’ve wanted security, real solid truth to everything I do. I’ve had it up ‘till now. I just… Nothing is what it seems, is it, Sammy?” you said, leaning back in your chair. “’Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?’” he quoted in a faraway voice. “I can’t do this right now, but I need to. Do you mind telling the others to just leave me be for a few hours?” you asked Sam. He gave your hand a tight squeeze before leaving you to your books.  
Seven hours later, you were nowhere near finding something to release just Michael when it dawned on you. “Jesus Christ, (Y/N), God is in the house. He can help,” you muttered to yourself. You wandered through the rooms, finally finding him sprawled out on the couch with a bottle of liquor dangling from between his fingers. “Chuck,” you whispered as you gently shook his shoulders until he woke up. His hands flew up, but you took a step back. “I just need some help, okay?” “What with?” he asked, reaching for his robe. “I need you to get Michael out of the Cage for me,” you stated simply. His eyes widened in surprise at your request. “Uh, (Y/N), I don’t think I can, that’s a bad—“ You pushed a finger against his lips, effectively shushing him. “Look, this can be payback for you just bursting in and basically ruining my life, okay?” you said with a seductive smile. Lowering yourself to a crouch in front of him, you looked up at him through your lashes and smirked. “I need you to be a good daddy so I can be a good little girl,” you said in a low voice. “Wh-what are you going to do?” Chucked asked. You quickly stood up and pointed the gun you knew was hidden under the couch at his face. “I’m not going to shoot you in the face, that’s what I’m gonna do,” you said with a smirk. You heard two voices try and hold back a snigger, failing epically. Sighing, you motioned them in. “Perfection,” complimented Dean as Sam rolled on the floor with laughter. Chuck was a deep red and you grinned at him before lowering the gun. “But seriously, though. I made a promise and I keep my promises,” you said once you had stopped giggling. “Okay, I’ll do it, but only if you promise not to hit me, okay?” he said, slowly lowering his hands. He closed his eyes and concentrated. A giant thump from the closet brought you to it. You raised the gun and flung open the door. Michael was lying facedown on the ground.  
He looked up at you and you grinned. “(Y/N), you kept your promise,” he said in a stunned voice. “I keep my promises, Mikey,” you said, helping him to his feet. He quickly pulled you into his arms and hugged you tightly. “I’ve been meaning to do that since the first one,” he said. He pulled back and smiled before striding into the room. “Michael, I don’t think that’s a good idea…” you said nervously as he pushed his way past you. “D-Dad?” stammered Dean. “No, I am Michael. It is good to see you boys again. And I see my brother is here as well. And this man is… Father?” he said, shocked at Chuck. He waved tentatively at Michael as he got to one knee. “Father, you have been gone so long, I was beginning to think you had forgotten us,” he said. Chuck brought him up and then pointed at the door. “Look, this has been great, but I really need some sleep. So if everyone could please leave, that’d be great,” he said, rubbing his temple with one hand. Everyone left the room quickly, but you straggled behind.  
“(Y/N), please,” he begged. “I’ll go. I just wanted to say thank you. You’re a good guy, Chuck. I know you don’t have much experience doing this, whether it be being a father to me or a thousand angels, being God, or just living this life. I’ve seen you through the eyes of a camera, seen the things you do behind closed doors, and you are a good guy. I swear. But can you tell me one thing?” you asked. “If you’ll leave, shoot,” he said, sitting down. “Can you make people soul mates, or is that a predestined thing?” you asked. “I can decide if the need comes,” he said. You lowered your head and forced a smile. “Okay, I’ll leave if you want. Thanks, Chuck,” you told him and got up to leave, but he grabbed your wrist. “Why?” he asked. Memories of Jared flooded through your head, the promises he broke, but mainly the sunset walks, the dates, the happy times before he left. “Because I needed to know,” you said at last. You pulled your hand from his grip before you left.

Somethings would never change, but perhaps Jared would be one that would.


	9. Chapter 9

He was gone when you woke up. You wandered bleary eyed down the hall to the kitchen where Sam sat. “(Y/N), you’re up early,” he commented. “I don’t sleep in. Are you going on a run anytime soon? I need a distraction and exercise seems like a good idea to me right now,” you said, getting a glass of milk. He looked surprised. “Yeah, I was just about to leave. Think you can keep up?” he challenged. You lifted an eyebrow and nodded before heading back to your room to change. A simple tank top and athletic shorts, hair up in a messy bun that you’d perfected. You walked out to Sam in a tank top and sweatpants. “Ready?” he asked. “As I ever,” you replied. “Okay, so we’re just gonna go a few miles, unless you want to go where I usually do, which is about five miles there and five back. Which one?” You thought a minute before deciding. “Let’s go an extra mile than you usually do. I’m feeling kinda sprightly this morning,” you said, moving to the sink to fill up your water bottle. “Let’s go, Samster!” you said as you headed for the door. He chuckled to himself as he followed you out.

            You were true to your word, going a full twelve miles only stopping once or twice for five minutes. By the time you and Sam had gotten back, it was nine o’clock. You’d been running for four hours, but you felt fulfilled. Sam was drenched in sweat, panting for breath when he came in. Dean laughed at the sight. You both slumped down in the chairs you’d pulled out earlier. “Where the hell did you learn to run like that?” he asked, chest heaving. “I run when I’m stressed or distracted or basically when I’m not feeling at my high. So that’s like, all the time when I’m not watching spn,” you said with a giggle. “Spn?” inquired Dean. “Y’all’s show. The reason I know about you guys so well,” you explained. They rolled their eyes in unison and you giggled. “Sam here made a bet that I couldn’t do it, so you’ve got to dress how I want for two days, got it, boys?” you said with a sly grin. Sam sighed in defeat, but Dean laughed. “This should be fun,” he said, clapping his hands together. “You’re agreeing to this?” you said, surprised. You’d figured the eldest Winchester would be against it. He nodded with a grin and you took his hand and ran to his room. “You’re next, Sam!” you shouted over your shoulder.

            You dropped Dean’s hand once he got the memo to follow you to his room. “Grey, long sleeved shirt. It’s got a few buttons at the top. It’s got a thermal texture look. You wore it the day after you got healed of your ghost sickness. Do you need a picture? I think I have one of that outfit on my phone,” you said. He rummaged through his closet before pulling out the shirt you had described. “Why do you have a picture of that outfit on your phone? And is this the one?” You nodded and blushed. “It’s my favorite outfit that you’ve worn in all eleven seasons. Put it on,” you instructed. He smirked at you and pulled his t-shirt over his head, which made you yell. “Dean, stop making (Y/N) uncomfortable!” yelled Sam. “I meant in the bathroom, moron! And we need your pants! Oo, I have something you have to wear to complete the outfit, too,” you squealed. Best bet I’ve ever won, you thought. You moved past the shirtless Winchester to pick a pair of pants. Settling on a normal pair of light washed jeans, you tossed them to him and left. “Come to me when you’re done,” you said as you shut the door.

            He came out in a minute and you stood up with a smile that covered your face. You held out your hand, gesturing for him to put his hand in yours. He did and you rolled up the sleeves to halfway up his arm on both arms. You unbuttoned two of the three buttons and looked up. He was staring down at you with those crazy green eyes and you looked away. You reached into your pocket and brought a small chain out, reaching up to put it around his neck. Stepping back, he looked at the necklace. He recognized it and gave you a stunned look. “How did you…”  he trailed off. Sam saw it and turned to you, equally as surprised. “It’s a sign of the fandom. I’ve had that for forever. I was going to a con a few weeks from now and was gonna give it to Jensen for him to keep. It’s an exact replica, made out of titanium and I might have had a little help from Cas changing it back into the one you threw away after Joshua brought you back to life when you got shot by those two hunters. You never should have thrown it away, Dean,” you explained. “Yeah, I’ve been told that before,” he scoffed. “Your turn, Sam?” you said. He was already standing up behind you. You took his hand and led him to his room, just as you’d done with Dean. But his grip was a little tighter than was Dean’s.

            “You’ve always looked really good in plaid, but I want to see what you boys look like in one layer. Try on… this navy blue t-shirt. Do you have any khaki cargo pants? If not, just pick your favorite pair of jeans. And I am putting your hair in a man bun or cutting it if It kills me,” you said as you faced the dresser. “I’ve already got the pants on, you can turn around,” he said softly. You turned around to see how the jeans would work with the shirt, but stopped and stared. He was even more ripped than the show portrayed him, way more so then Dean. His broad shoulders only heightened the effect. “See something you like?” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes. “Hur-de-dur. You’re a Winchester, moron. It’s practically proven that your family is nine-hundred percent hotter than anyone else, hun,” you said with a grin. He slid the t-shirt and you suddenly yelled at him to not move. “I’ll be right back, don’t you dare move!” you ordered. You sprinted out of the room to your bedroom, snatched your phone, and ran back to his room. He hadn’t moved. “Take it off, and then put it back on again, okay?” you instructed, flipping your camera on to record. He did as you said. You caught the video perfectly from the way his back muscles rippled when he flexed his arms to the way he shook his hair out. “I’m so gonna win this contest now!” you exclaimed as you went to hug him. He hugged you back after a second of tension. “Contest?” he asked. “Yeah, the Winchester back-appreciation-post competition. It’s a big deal for spn bloggers. Winner usually gets a ton of followers,” you explained, letting him go. “I gotta go upload this, I’ll be out in a minute,” you said as you flounced out.

Sam watched you go until you were out of sight. "Damn it," he mumbled, running a hand through his thick, brown hair. Falling for you was  _not_ something he had planned on.


	10. Chapter 10

“So there’s a contest called the “Winchester Back Appreciation Post” and (Y/N) just entered me in it. Boom, suck it,” Sam said as he came into the library where his brother sat. “Whatever,” Dean scoffed. “It’s true, I did. But just so you know, Sam, your brother has won the past two years with that one scene with Anna,” you said as you came in wearing a new outfit. “Really?” said Dean, suddenly interested. “Yeah, the light was perfect and it’s one of my personal favorite episodes. Well, was until the episode shot entirely from Baby,” you confessed. Dean sat back in his chair and smirked. You flicked through your pictures until you found the one you were looking for. “See? This is the one that’s won the past two years,” you said, holding up for the boys to see. Dean was grinning like an idiot and the look on Sam’s face was one of pure horror. “I will never look at Dean the same. You hooked up with Anna?” he asked. Dean’s grin widened and he nodded slowly. “Hey, you ain’t got nothing to say, boy! Remember that one time you were working out when you bought a stripper when you ran from Dean? So cram it, boy,” you said with a knowing look. He turned bright red and Dean laughed. “Having someone who knows all our secrets is kinda funny,” said Dean as he laughed.

            “What are we doing today?” you asked as you slipped into a seat next to Dean. “Look for ways to shove Lucifer back in when he beats Amara? Wanna help?” he asked. “I will if you spend thirty minutes telling me childhood memories. Deal?” you said. “Why do you want to know about that?” asked Sam. “The flashbacks to when you were just kids have always been my favorites besides when you would laugh and smile. Those weren’t shown a lot and I like to hear you guys laugh. It’s not something I’m used to and I wish you did it more often. But y’all never had much to laugh or smile about, though. Last time that happened, Sam was covered in glitter after he’d been attacked by clowns and Dean got a giant rainbow slinky,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory. So they did. They told you about trick-or-treating in a motel, then just buying a bag of candy, how Dean learned to play the guitar by himself to lull young Sam to sleep, the stories John would tell when he got home, distorted enough so that Sam wouldn’t catch on. Thirty minutes wasn’t enough. But you loved it. You held up your end of the bargain, helping them do research for hours on end.

            “Where’s Cas?” you asked absentmindedly after a few days of him being gone. “No clue. He probably won’t be back for a few days. Depends,”  said Dean without looking up. You sighed and pushed back from the table. “Okay, I’m gonna go make dinner. Any suggestions?” you threw over your shoulder as you began to make your way to the kitchen. “You’re always asking that. Make what you want, (Y/N),” said Sam as he gave you a smile. You grinned and flounced off to the kitchen.

            It was a cold, wet day, rather dreary in your opinion. Perfect for some homemade chicken noodle soup. You grabbed the pasta right after setting some water on the stove to boil, chopping up celery and carrots on your way back to the pot. It was the first meal you’d made with your mom and the last one you’d made with you grandmother. It was an old recipe, handed down through your family, but it was so symbolic to you of happy times.

            It always helped that it was actually really quick and easy to make, too. You poured the finished product into three coffee mugs and brought them back to the library. Dean was hunkered over a book and Sam was leaned back in the chair, scrolling through something on his laptop. You sat a mug down in front of both of them and took a seat beside Sam.

            “So I did some research on the earlier episodes of season eleven. And I must say, Sam, I’m surprised that you would go to Luci for help. I mean, I know the greater good and all, but I didn’t think you would go so far. Honestly, I should’ve known,” you said casually. Sam gave you a look. “He never got out, and that’s the important thing, okay? What was I supposed to do?” he asked in an irritated voice. You tilted your head sideways. “What? He-he never got out? Jesus. What world y’all been livin’ in?” you said, stunned. “Are you saying he’s out?” said Dean in a rising voice. “Yeah, and his vessel absolutely sucks, too. It’s no wonder he hasn’t been around. I think it’s safe to say we’re through,” you scoffed. Really, it was tearing you apart from the inside, but pain mustn’t be shown. That’s what your father always told you before he killed your mother and then himself. It was a bad childhood to say the least.

            “ _Cas is his vessel?_ ” Dean shouted. You pushed a piece of paper towards him. “Sam’s room, the Amazon channel. This is my username and passcode. It should pop right up. Watch all of season eleven after episode eleven. I think it’s called ‘Devil in the Details’,” you instructed. He pushed back from the chair and stormed off towards his brother’s room. Sam was quick to follow suit.  

            You made no move to follow either of them. It was all you could do to keep from falling into despair. Cas was all you had had besides the boys, and now they would be distant until they could free him. But you’d seen it. He had no desire to be free. He just wanted Amara dead, and he’d made that much perfectly clear.

            You sat there all night, not moving, not speaking, not doing anything at all. The three cups of soup had gone cold, but you didn’t care. The boys hadn’t come back from Sam’s room; they were probably still studying each episode intently. To be honest, it was hard, being so alone. You just wanted Cas to come back and hold you while you whispered his name in his ear. You wanted to cry into his chest. You wanted, you wanted, you wanted. But all you could do was sit and listen. Listen to the ringing silence that you had long since made peace with. Listen and wait for something worth moving for.

Maybe it'll come soon, you thought.


	11. Chapter 11

Michael came eventually. He had found your television and had been watching Pushing Daises all day, but he felt a longing in his chest. He found you right where you had been for hours, head drooping with exhaust. So he picked you up gently and took you back to bed. He didn’t want to leave, but he couldn’t stay without making it creepy. He settled instead for sitting at the foot of your bed and talking to you about whatever came to mind. He was quite like an older brother, like someone watching over you to keep you safe. It was easier to fall asleep under his watch.

           

You woke up and Michael was still there. He smiled at you and you sat up. “(y/n)! I’m glad you are awake now. Would you like to go somewhere with me? I feel restless now that I’m out,” he suggested. You tilted your head and gave a considering look. “I don’t know, Mike. The other angel’s will want you for a weapon, and I don’t want you getting hurt,” you said slowly. He looked down, his eyes sad. You sighed and pushed a hand through your hair. “Okay, just for a few hours. But I’m gonna have to draw some stuff on you and it might tickle, okay?” you said sternly. He nodded gleefully and ran out the door.

           

You straightened your hair and quickly threw it up in a ponytail when Michael came hurtling through the bathroom door with a thick black Sharpie in this hand. “I know you prefer it when I use normal skills instead of my powers,” he explained. You chuckled and took it from his hand. “Go sit out in the living room and get one of the boys. Probably Sam, since you and Dean are still a little off,” you instructed. He went off again to do as you said. You grabbed your messenger bag and followed him out the door.

           

Sam and Michael were standing beside each other in the main room. Sam’s face was fallen ad rather forlorn, and you knew why. It was obvious they didn’t know you were coming, so you snuck up behind the giant man and slipped your arms around him. He tensed up at first, but after glancing under his arm to confirm it was you, he relaxed and even put a hand on top of yours. “Need your help, Samster,” you said as you pulled away gently.

 

You put your hand out for the Sharpie, which Michael gave you and you passed it to Sam. “Draw the anti-angel sigil on me and anything else you got to keep us both hidden. Angel boy’s got himself some cabin fever,” you said, lifting your shirt for him to draw it on him. “It won’t work with a normal Sharpie, (y/n),” he said with a weak smile. Michael reached out and poked the top of it with the tip of his finger. “Should work now, Moose,” he said happily. Sam threw him a strange look but shrugged. “Something happened to him in the Cage,” he muttered as he crouched to get closer to your stomach.

           

Lifting your shirt enough for him to draw, he placed his hand on the other side of your hip before drawing a few lines and signs. “You know the banishing sigil?” he asked without looking up. “Uh, yeah. I should. Let me draw it on something when you’re done just to be sure. And is there a tether for Michael? I don’t really want to blast him back to the Cage, if you know what I mean,” you said with a smile. He moved his hand to the small of your back and held you a little tighter, pulling you closer to him. “Stop moving or I’ll mess it up, okay? We can talk when I’m done,” he commanded. You nodded and he looked up at you with those hazel eyes you’d grown to love over the seasons.

             

Getting back to his work, you asked Michael for a piece of paper and a pen, which he willingly brought. You sketched a quick drawing of what you knew the banishing sigil and put your hand on Sam’s to stop him from drawing. “This right?” you asked as you handed it to him. His eyes scanned it quickly and he glanced up at you in surprise. “You really liked that show, didn’t you?” he asked with a low laugh. “Yeah. I fell head over heels for you boys the minute Dean came and got you at Stanford. Might as well have sold my soul as soon as Dean said, ‘Easy there, tiger’,” you confessed.

 

He smirked and motioned for Michael to sit on the table, which he did. He pushed up the sleeve and instructed him to flex. “Damn,” you mumbled. Both boys looked at you and you hid behind your hands to try and cover the bright blush on your face. “Do you like it when I flex?’ Michael asked curiously. “Maybe,” you squeaked. He lifted his shirt and did it again and you fell off the table. “Cut it out! You might not be him, but you still look exactly like Matt Cohen and let’s just not go there, okay? He makes multiple men question their sexuality on a daily basis to say the least,” you said sheepishly. Michael laughed a hearty laugh, but Sam just got back to drawing on him.

 

He got done quicker than with you and you were going to give him one last thank you when he spun you around and lowered himself down one more time. “Don’t move,” he growled. You were shocked at this new side of Sam, but to be honest, it turned you on way more than it should. You felt the cold felt tip of the marker dance across the very back of your skin in lines that obviously weren’t English words. “Enochian?” inquired Michael in a confused voice. Sam cut him off with a quick shush. You squirmed more than last time, wanting to see what he’d do.

 

He took his other hand and gripped your hip tightly and it was accompanied by a hum of disapproval. Satisfied, you stopped moving. He let go of the marker, his hands still on you as he stood up. His hand slid up your body as he stood and I felt his warm breath tickle the top of my hair. I turned around to see him looking down at me, his eyes a shade darker than normal. “Sam?” you whispered. He gave you a predatory look before stepping back and leaving the room. “Are you ready to leave, (y/n)?” asked Michael in a bubbly tone. He was apparently oblivious to any amount of sexual tension. You turned to him and gave a small smile. “As I’ll ever.”

 

You glanced at the door Sam had just left through before returning your attention to Michael. "Let's go."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter's gonna be a bit smutty, IF YA KNOW WHAT I MEAN. LEMON, LEMON AUH HUAHUAHUA

The best choice was the zoo. Michael loved the tigers the best and could spout off a hundred facts about every animal just off the top of his head. By the time you and him had been through half the animals, it was thirty minutes ‘till closing time. “Mike, can we go see the hippos? They’re my favorite,” you asked. His eyes lit up and he took your hand in his as he pulled you behind him, firing facts about them.

Soon enough, you were there. You loved how they looked so sweet but were really vicious creatures, so like the boys and the angels you’d grown to love. You leaned on the railing, listening to what Michael was saying. It was like having your own personal hippo professional. But you guessed it helped that he was there when they were made with God’s life-clay. “(Y/n), perhaps we should go. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold and the temperatures are dropping at a rate of eleven degrees every half hour,” he said as he put a hand on your shoulder. You looked at him and smiled. “Yeah, probably. Let’s head back. If you want to zap us back, that’s fine with me. It might be safer, unless your brothers and sisters can determine where another one is by their transportation,” you said warily. He smiled and shook his head, offering you a hand in the meantime. You took it and felt a small breeze. When you blinked, you were back in the bunker’s entrance room.   
  
Dean was at one of the tables with a piece of paper in front of him and a pencil in hand. He heard you sigh and looked up. “Sammy! She’s—They’re back!” he bellowed as he went back to writing. You heard the heavy tread of footsteps as Sam neared closer to you. “Hey, how was it?” he asked as he rounded the corner. You smiled and pointed to Michael. “For me, it was great. Why don’t you ask the six-year-old over here?” you joked.

“I am not six. Six trillion, perhaps,” he said with a scowl. “I was being sarcastic, Mikey. I mean you were happy and carefree as a six-year-old. That’s a good thing,” you explained. You heard Dean chuckle at the angel’s reasoning. “Oh. I had a very nice time. It was kind of you to accompany me. Perhaps we could do it again sometimes, but with Dean and Sam?” he inquired. You nodded happily and went off to the kitchen.   
  
“Anything interesting happen?” asked a voice. “No, those marks you put on us worked really well. I never actually thanked you for them. Maybe we can hang out sometime as a repayment. Sound good?” you said, already knowing it was Sam. You reached on your tiptoes to get your favorite coffee cup, and it was just out of reach. You huffed and stretched as far as you could. A large hand reached over you and grabbed it. The hand offered the cup, but you peered around your shoulder to give him a disapproving look. He raised his free hand in surrender and put it back right where it was.

“I need to learn to adapt if I’m going to live where no one is below six foot one,” you huffed before heaving yourself on the counter with your scrawny looking arms. You stood tall on the counter, this time easily reaching the cup. You grinned and turned to face the younger Winchester. He was looking up at you with a small smile. Truth be told, you weren’t that much taller than him right now, but still. Your turned to Sam and put your hands on his broad shoulders. “I usually jump down, but you’re in the way. So either move or help me down,” you said. He put his hands on your waist and gave you a smirk.

He tugged you by the waist, leaving you suspended midair just a few inches off the ground. Your hands coiled in to protect the cup, but he was still holding you. You turned to glare at him, but his eyes were shining and a smile on his face you hadn’t seen before. “Are you done?” you asked his flatly. He dropped you to your feet and you went over to the now boiling water.  
  
“I’d like to cash in that hanging out thing now, if you don’t mind,” he said as you ladled the hot water into your cup. “I will let you if you bring me the hot chocolate mix,” you bargained. He called out a short, “heads up!” and threw it to you. After adding a generous helping, you grabbed a spoon and followed Sam to his room.   
  
“Why is this the only room with Netflix? Netflix is a necessary part of everyday life!” you said as you settled on the bed. “Dean doesn’t want to ‘waste money’ and Cas was never here long enough for it to really matter. I guess you’ll be getting it?” he replied. You gave him a classic bitch face and rolled your eyes. “No, I’m just going to somehow live without it. Of course! I wouldn’t last a day!” you exclaimed. Sam scoffed and gestured to the TV. “You can always just come and watch it in here. It’ll save you money on the fee and the cost of a new TV,” he suggested.

Your eyes widened and you said, “Sam, I watch TV at night. By the looks of it, you’re the kind to go to bed at eight and wake up at five. I don’t want to change you; I like you the way you are and have for a long time. To be honest, I liked your brother more at first because, dear Jesus Christ, twenty-seven year old Jensen Ackles makes me want to puke rainbows, but then I really fell for you later on in the show. Ever since then, I’ve been teetering between you and Cas. Anyways, literally the sweetest offer anyone has ever made me, but I don’t want you to lose sleep over me,” you explained. He shook his head and laughed. “I like spending time with you a lot; I’ll never sleep when I could be chillin’ with you anyways,” he said, turning his attention back to the TV. “Any suggestions?” he asked. “Sherlock or Sherlock. Either one. The one with Benedict Cumberbatch. He is my life. That voice just… hng,” you said, burying your head in your hands. He chuckled and passed you the remote, leaning back against the headboard.

He was plotting something. You could tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU DIDN'T READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BEGINNING, GO READ IT. IT IS IMPORTANT.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just kidding, the NEXT chapter will have all the lemon-y goodness. Promise.

“So the cabbie was a ‘proper genius’, John is apparently willing to kill for Sherlock, who he obviously likes, Sherlock is a downright asshole, and you’re in love with him,” Sam summed up after the first episode. You blushed furiously. “I am not!” you protested. He raised an eyebrow and snorted. “So when anyone winks, you squeal and cover your face with your hands. When someone laughs, you sigh. And God forbid they be sarcastic or sassy. Showing their intelligence? Forget it!” he listed. You sighed and gave in.

 

“Okay, fine, I am. His hair, those eyes, his voice that I can practically hear growling my name in my ear, his wits and sarcasm, his long fingers, the way you can practically tell he’s a dom in bed, it makes me want to bite a bullet,” you confessed with a huff. Sam smirked. “So from what I can ‘deduce’, you like guys with low voices, messy hair, high IQs, big hands, and guys being rough and possessive,” he teased. “Maybe,” you admitted sheepishly. “So if I did this,” he trailed off, putting a hand on other side of you and towering over you. You were caged in by his arms. He leaned down to your head and growled deep against your throat. His hand slid up your side, stopping at your wrists to hold them over your head. “Sam,” you moaned on accident.

 

He pulled back and smirked at you. His eyes were considerably darker than they had been a minute ago and he leaned down to brush his lips against yours. They stopped an inch away. A sick feeling in your stomach made you lay your head back on the pillow. But Sam didn’t move any closer. In fact, he didn’t move at all. “Forgetting about me so quickly, (y/n)? Too bad. Cassie was really fallin’ hard for you and you had to go and cheat on him,” said a low voice you knew too well. “Lucifer.”

           

“I just wanted to come and gloat. Oh, and wear a condom, (y/n). The world has enough Winchester’s,” he smirked. You moved out from under Sam and stood in front of him. “You get the hell out of him now. You’ve done your part and I know what you’re planning to do. Waste the world just because you’re mad at Dad, boo-hoo. Daddy brought home a new baby, so I’m gonna smash up all his toys. Give it up already. The world doesn’t need you, Luce. Hell, the world hates you. And I’m sorry. I don’t blame you one bit. Staying loyal to your Father, loving him most, it got you expelled for all eternity. You were trying to do what was right. Put in your place, I would have made the same choices. Well, not the same ones, but you know. Luci, this isn’t your fault, but it’s certainly not the humans. Blame Dad, blame your siblings, blame destiny or whatever. But they never did you any wrong, okay? You just need a few more hugs. Promise me you’ll think about it, Luce. Castiel doesn’t deserve this most of all. He’s so innocent,” you finished.

 

 He stared at you, not moving. After a while, he looked down. He was silent, brooding. You both stood still for a long while. You were expecting him to make a sassy comment any moment, or maybe even kill you for suggesting he was soft. “You don’t blame me? You.. don’t _hate_ me?” he whispered. This was unexpected. You gently walked to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Ever since you walked on the show, I never have. I can understand where you’re coming from. Honesty, you were my favorite ‘villain’ on the show. To me, you weren’t a villain at all. Just trying to do what you deemed right. And I’m sorry you got what you did. But that doesn’t justify what you did. I’m not saying you’re a bad person, though. No, just… lost. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean that we think their actions are right.” Suddenly he took large strides to close the gap between you both and he swept you up in a hug. You froze for the first moment then tenderly hugged him back. He whispered something in your ear and then vanished.

           

Sam made a surprised noise behind you and you spun to see him looking bewildered right at you. “How did you—“ he began, but you ran over to him and pressed your lips to his in haste. He mumbled against your lips at first and then returned it. He put a hand behind your head to pull you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You nipped at his bottom lip and he groaned into your mouth. His other hand was tracing small circles on the small of your back and you were tangeling your fingers in his thick hair. His tongue swiped across yours and they fought for dominance, him winning easily.

 

You pulled away and laid your head on his chest. “I have to go talk to Dean. I’ll be back if you want me to,” you said. He put a finger under your chin and lifted your face so that you were looking at each other. “I’ve never wanted anything as bad,” he said in a low voice. He let you go and you ran out to where Dean used to be.

           

He wasn’t in the library, the kitchen, or the living room. The last place to look was his room. You sprinted towards it and burst through. He was lying down, headphones in. He took them out when he saw you. “You better not have a hunt planned tomorrow because we need to go to Bobby’s old place tomorrow. The thing we need to kill Amara is going to be there. And our Castiel, too,” you spat out. Dean sat upright and threw his legs over the side of his bed. “How do you know this?” he asked suspiciously.

 

“Lucifer. He barged in, stopping time or something like that. Anyways, he came in to taunt me, I talked to him about what I thought of him, he got all quiet. He, um, gave me a hug and when I hugged him back, he whispered it in my ear,” you explained. Dean stared at you in disbelief. “Satan… hugged you? Because you told him off?” he said. “No, I told him it I didn’t blame him and that he could still make things right. That’s the gist. I said a lot, actually. And his name is Lucifer,” you said. By then, Sam had heard the commotion. “You don’t blame him for wrecking the world. Or killing millions. Or bringing about the downfall of humanity,” he said, his voice unsure.

 

 “Not really, he’s like a little boy who just wants his daddy to love him the most. He made mistakes, but he was blind by rage and we don’t need to judge him by what he’s already done. This doesn’t mean be kind and all forgiving, but give him some slack. He’s apparently met by hatred everywhere he goes. Wouldn’t that turn anyone cruel?” you said. The boys gave you a strange look, but Dean nodded. “It’s not that far. We can go tomorrow, okay? Go get some sleep. God knows we’ll need it if Cas is coming back,” Dean said as he put his headphones back in. You left to go back to Sam’s room. He was right, you’d need sleep eventually.

 

"Sleep is for the weak, anyways," you mumbled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BEGINNING, IT'S IMPORTANT. AGAIN. Sorry.


	14. Chapter 14 (SMUT)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.

Sam was quick to follow suit. You laid back on the bed, letting your thoughts consume you. If Cas really liked you, and so did Sam, what were you supposed to do? You liked them both, but you’d had more time with just Sam. Perhaps Cas would understand that while he was “gone”, you’d fallen for Sam. But the angel had given up his entire being to try and stop Amara. You were so engrossed in your thoughts, you didn’t hear when Sam came in and laid down beside you. When he leaned over and began to suck on your neck, well, that got your full attention. He had only made one move and he’d already found your sweet spot.

His hand trailed down to your thigh and he squeezed. He paused his ministrations to look down with a devilish gleam in his eyes before leaning down and kissing you passionately. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss even more. After a moment of this, he laid sloppy kisses down your throat to your neck. “Sam, please,” you whimpered. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he instructed.

“Make me forget everything. I need you to do whatever you want, I need to taste you, I need to forget. Please, Sammy,” you begged. The words came out so quickly, you were surprised he’d understood. He grumbled his approval before tugging his shirt over his head. You sucked in your breath and sat up, your hands feeling over the hard planes of his chiseled chest. “God, Sam,” you breathed. He chuckled and pushed you back gently, but forcefully. He pushed a quick kiss to your lips before raising the hem of your shirt over your head and throwing God knows where.

It wasn’t fancy, just a (f/c) bra with a black ribbon stripe on the side. You only wore it because it matched your underwear and that gave you a huge sense of accomplishment. Sam gave you a questioning look and you nodded. He pulled the string hard and made a small noise when he pulled off your bra and laid it to the side. “Sam,” you mewled, desperate for him to make a move. He smirked at you and made a dive for your bare breast.

His tongue circled you nipple, making you moaned aloud. You arched your back and he continued. Pleasure bubbled up inside you and you whispered his name again and again. Finally, he was done and came up for air with an obscene pop. He raised his head and then quickly lowered his lips back to yours. This kiss was different from the others. It was sweeter, more gentle, but with all the fire hidden behind it.

As much as you wanted to keep kissing him, you pushed him off and tugged at his pants. They fell around his ankles and he kicked them off. You flipped him over so that you were on top of him and began to kiss him again while grinding down on the enormous bulge held back only by his dark grey boxers. “God, (y/n), you gotta stop,” he groaned.

 You repositioned yourself in between his ankles and palmed him firmly. His hips bucked up into your touch and his head threw back with a grunt. Teasingly, you reached inside his boxers and trailed one finger down his length. Pulling the band down, his erection came springing forth. Your eyes widened for a moment at his size: it was easily the biggest you’d ever meant to take on. You shook your head and lowered your lips to his head and gave it a small lick.

“Christ,” he grunted. You grinned at his state and hastily took as much as you could in one state. He involuntarily bucked his hips forwards and without warning, his dick slid down your throat. “(Y/N)!” he yelled. You pulled off him and shushed him. “Can’t have Dean knowing, can we?” you said in  a low whisper. He nodded vigorously and pushed you back down.

“I’m going to fuck your face and you’ll tap my leg twice if it gets to be too much, okay?” he said in a demanding tone, yet there was kindness hidden at the last bit. You smiled and he began to thrust in your mouth. The noises he made alone were making you soaking wet, but when his hand tangled in your hair, you almost lost it. You moaned around his cock, giving it a little extra squeeze.

“Turn over,” he ordered in a low voice. Of course, you complied quickly. He tore the underwear off, slipping a finger in you in the meantime. “S-Sam, later… need you now,” you panted haltingly. In response, he growled in your ear and pumped you harder. It was hitting you perfectly every tine, causing waves of pleasure to come crashing down. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach. “Sam, please, I-I, ohhh, God, I’m so—“

He stopped and pulled out. You whined at the loss, but the whine turned to a sigh when you felt his cock teasing your entrance. He slowly pushed in, letting you adjust to his thick length. You sighed as it filled and stretched you completely as he slid in until he was in to the hilt.

 “(y/n), so tight… feels so good, baby girl,” he praised as he began to move. At first his thrusts were slow and rhythmic, leaving you wanting more. “Sam, p-please, fuck me hard,” you begged. He groaned and put one hand on you shoulder and the other on your hips. With no warning, he lifted you up in the air and started thrusting harder and harder. With every push, you moaned low and loud. His mouth was on your naked back, pressing rough kisses and small bites down your spine and you pushed back with him. You felt the knot in your stomach tense again.

“You’re mine, only I can do this to you,” he growled, punctuating each word with a bed-thumping thrust. He was slowly getting sloppy and the knot was getting tighter. “Sam, I-I’m going to—“ He shushed you and reached down to rub your clit. At this, you lost all control and pleasure washed over your body wave after wave. You buried your head into the bed and screamed his name. He came right after you, groaning and letting his head fall to your shoulder.

After a moment, he pulled out and rolled off to the side of you. “I really hope you were on the pill, (y/n),” he said into your ear as he pulled you close to him. You nodded and he placed a gentle kiss on your lips. The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Sam whispering about how you were his now.


	15. Chapter 15

You woke up entangled in Sam’s arms. His legs were scrambled with yours and his breathing was slow and relaxed. You sighed and snuggled deeper into him. When you moved, he opened one eye sleepily and smiled at you. Someone knocked on the door and you fell out of the bed. “Are you two done in there? We’re leaving in thirty minutes whether or not you two have had enough of each other or not,” said Dean through the other side of the door. You groaned and put your head back on the floor. 

Sam peered over the side of the bed with a stupid grin on his face. “You can wear one of my shirts because I might have lost the one I threw somewhere last night,” he offered, rolling over so he landed next to you with an oomphf. You giggled and stood up to walk to his small closet. You went through and choose a simple blue and black flannel, slipping it on. You gave him one last kiss on the cheek before scurrying to your room.

A grey tank top with black shorts, tennis shoes and the flannel around your waist, you were almost ready to go. “(y/n), come on! We ain’t got all day and we have to get there first, so hurry up before I come in there myself!” Dean said through the door. “Yeah, I’ll be right there, I just can’t find something I need,” you said as you flopped the blanket in haste. 

The door creaked open and Dean grabbed your shoulders. “Tell me what we’re looking for and stop freaking out, okay?” he instructed. You sighed and said, “It’s a small silver chain necklace with a ring on it. The ring is made of titanium and there’s a blue stone in the middle with a little engraving of a swallow on the inside. I need it really badly, I haven’t gone anywhere without it in years,” you explained, going back to check the bed again. 

A light knock at the door made you turn to see Sam holding the necklace in his hand. In comparison, the ring looked tiny. “Um, I think this is yours. Found it in the back of the Impala. Unless it’s Dean’s—“ You cut him off with a kiss. You heard Dean do a catcall and Sam smiled into the kiss. You broke away to take the necklace from him. “Thank you so much, Sammy. I don’t know what I’d do without this old thing,” you said. You slipped it on over your head and grabbed your bag off of the bed. “Do I even have to go?” you said. “Hey, you’re the one who’s on Satan’s good side,” retorted Dean. You sighed and went to the Impala with them.

It was same as always, maybe a little different because Sam was sitting in the back with you this time. “I’m driving on the way back, just so you know,” you told Dean. He, of course, began to argue, but it was no use. “Don’t care, so shut up. I might be a bit younger than you, but I’m still a good driver. It’s the passenger seat you’ll have a fight for,” you told him. He finally shut up and you yawned. “It’s still early. Why don’t you lean against me and close your eyes? You’ll need your energy for your first fight,” suggested Sam, opening one arm to you. You gladly accepted and leaned into him. He still smelled like himself, maybe now with some fresh cologne. 

It was only a few hours there, and when you woke up, it was because Dean had woken you up to make sure this was the right place from where Lucifer had told you to go. “Let me go in alone, okay? Just, um, wait for me on the other side of the door and I’ll stomp if I need you,” you instructed while the boys got their guns locked and loaded. You took the one Dean handed you and walked in. Castiel was sitting in the middle of the room, tied to a chair. You ran to him and knelt to your knees to undo the ones nearest his feet. 

“Cas, I’ve been worried sick! Why did you even say yes?” you asked angrily. He snapped his fingers and the binds fell away. “Did you mean what you said? I need to know,” he said in a light voice. You rose up and gave an exasperated sigh. “I really wish you’d stop tricking me. You said you were and an angel is to be true to his word. You might not have noticed, but I may have slipped a pinkie around yours, and that’s a pinky promise, okay? Now hold up your end of the bargain, get back in Nick, and then leave, okay? If you do that, I’ll be your best friend forever, deal? God knows it’ll be nice,” you said. He pondered it. “Not a low life I hate, and they don’t hate me. I’ll take your deal, my dear, so long as you hold up your end. I’m allowed to swing by whenever,” he pointed out. “Okay, now get out of Cas,” you agreed. A blinding flash of light, and Cas fell to the floor. 

You stomped quickly and the boys came rushing in to find you holding him in your lap, stroking his face. “Cas, come on, wake up. He has to hold his end before I hold mine, please,” you murmured. “You made a deal?” demanded Dean. You waved him away and turned back to Cas. His eyes fluttered open and you let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “I want to beat the crap out of you, Castiel. But I won’t because I’m a nice person,” you said, laughing lightly.

“Cas, you ever do something like that again, you’ll be tasting my fist,” Dean threatened. Cas smiled weakly and you looped an arm around his waist to help you up. You raised him up when you heard a small noise that the boys obviously hadn’t heard. Your eyes went wide and you called Sam closer to you. He was there in an instant. You passed Cas gently to him before telling them to go get a bottle of water from the car. They left the room and you turned on the flashlight, “Hello?” you called out. “I’m here to help you, promise. Can you come towards my voice? My name’s (y/n), what’s yours?” you continued. The noise again. You noticed it was coming from a small locker. You neared it and opened it confidently. 

You were right about the noise.


	16. Chapter 16

In the bottom of the locker, a filthy little boy with a mat of white blond hair was crying.

You lowered yourself down to his level. “Hey, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to take you back home. Is your name Ben? Your parents are looking for you,” you said softly. He clambered into your lap, burying his face in your shirt. You stroked the top of his head, whispering loving words into his ear. “I’m going to call for my friend, okay? Are there others?” you asked. He shook his head and you stood up. He clung to you like he’d fall away if he didn’t. You rushed out to the car, where Dean froze when he saw the boy holding onto you.

           

“Who… How…” he began, but you just said, “There’s been so many amber alerts around here, when I heard crying, I knew there were little kids here. Four of them over the last year and a half. His name is Ben Green, his parents moved when they thought he was dead. Been missing for almost a year. He was the second. Sam, I need you to take care of him, Dean, stay with Cas. I’m going in to see if I can find the others,” you said. You tried to hand Ben to Sam, but he didn’t let go. You tried again, but he whined and started to cry again.

 

“Maybe Dean and I can go instead. You can watch Cas, right?” suggested Sam. You mulled it over before nodding. You sat down beside Cas, who slumped against your shoulder. Ben was filthy, like he hadn’t been bathed in years. His tears slowly subsided as you took off Sam’s flannel, got it a little wet, and gently rubbed some of the dirt away from his face. A small tune made its way from your lips and you sang a soft song to keep the boy quiet.

           

 _Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you._ His breathing had slowed against you and you hummed on.

 

The boys came out from the warehouse. When you looked to Sam, he shrugged his shoulders and your suspicions were confirmed. The others were either turned or dead. Ben was the only survivor.

           

Sam tried to take Ben, but he wanted you. So you let him stay with you. He didn’t seem to want to take off their clothes, so you just put him fully clothed into the tub and turned on the water.

 

At first rinse, the water was black. Second, a dark brown, then a light brown, and finally, it was clear. In between splashes and sad looks, Ben told you of another boy, Mitch. Mitch was so young, he could barely speak. Just two years old, taken on his second birthday three months ago. He went quiet when you asked him where Mitch was and you didn’t pester him on it.

           

You stole three of the boys t-shirts, dressed them and lead them into the kitchen. Sitting them at the table, you bent over and said, “What would you like to eat? Anything. My friend will have it here as soon as you’d like.” “I’m just hungry,” Ben said quietly. “Okay, you can have what me and the boys are having,” you said softly. He nodded and you went to the pantry to get what you needed.

When you returned, Ben was attempting to eat something Cas had poofed in and failing miserably, the poor thing. Cas came in and tried to help him, barely doing anything but making a bigger mess. After a while of messing with it, Cas gave a frustrated sound. “You good, Cassie?”

 

“Yes, I am alright, (y/n). This child is being difficult and would like to do it on his own, but he is not old enough yet. I am confused, is all. Thank you for your concern,” he said, trying to feed Ben. Ben pushed the spoon away from his mouth and turned to you. “Is he your babe?” Ben asked, pointing to Cas. You stifled a laugh and poured some potatoes into a bowl. “Is that what your mommy called your daddy?” you asked.

 

“No, that’s what my daddies call each other. Daddy Misha likes to call Daddy Jensen that especially,” he said very seriously. You laughed and said, “No, Ben, Cas is just a friend. I don’t have a babe.”  “I’ll have to fix that, won’t I, (Y/n)? After all, you’re still mine,” said Sam from the doorway. You blushed and stared at the potatoes. Kaylaree giggled and went to sit back down.

           

Sam slid his large arms around your waist and pulled you back into his chest. “That is, if you’d say yes,” he said quietly into your ear. “You know, five weeks ago, I was dreaming of this moment. Literally. I’m where every girl wants to be and now I can call Sam Winchester, savior of the world, my boyfriend,” you said, turning to kiss him gently. He smiled into the kiss. Pulling away, you went back to humming the song trickling out of the speakers.

 

“Miss (y/n), was this the song you were singing to me when you found me?” asked Ben. “Yes, it is. Good job, Ben,” you said, pulling the pork chops out of the oven. You rationed the food onto plates, setting the largest one in front of Ben. “Go get your brother and tell him we’re eating together like a family tonight. For the kids,” you told Sam. He swatted your butt and walked away with a smirk on his face.

 

Domestic life with the Winchester's was just as perfect as you'd ever imagined it.


End file.
